


New Beginnings

by bibliotaphist



Series: home is where you make it [3]
Category: Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons), Trollhunters - Daniel Kraus & Guillermo del Toro
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angor is Claire's troll dad, Childbirth, Fankids - Freeform, Multi, Post-Canon, angor blinky and aaarrrgghh are all trollmarried
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:02:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27403969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bibliotaphist/pseuds/bibliotaphist
Summary: Nearly a decade after the third almost-end of the world, Jim and Claire are expecting their first child. Like any good first-time parents, they have a plan. And, just like her parents, their daughter has one of her own. Go figure, Angor's along for the ride.
Relationships: Aaarrrgghh/Blinkous "Blinky" Galadrigal/Angor Rot, Jim Lake Jr./Claire Nuñez
Series: home is where you make it [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1617895
Kudos: 19





	New Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> if you asked me "why did you spend a month writing about childbirth", i could literally not tell you. this just appeared to me one night and i had to write it, because god has cursed me for my hubris, and my work is never finished. so, now we have midwife Angor, who out of all the trolls would probably be the best choice anyways. 
> 
> full disclosure: i have no practical experience with this process, but i like to think i do my homework well enough for someone who writes fanfiction in their spare time.

“Angor, hand me that chisel?” asked Claire, bent over a pile of tiny mechanical components. Her swollen belly forced her into a 90 degree angle to avoid pressing it into the hard edge of the workbench. Leaning heavily on her elbows, she furrowed her brow over her jewelers glasses.

Angor passed it to her, barely glancing from the densely-scripted tome he was flipping through. She accepted it without looking up. Angor licked a finger and turned the page.

Ever since Merlin and Morgana’s demise, his family had worked tirelessly to recover the knowledge both sorcerers had taken to their graves, and they were coming along at a surprising clip.

Claire was taking on a monumental challenge: building a staff of her own. Between her, Hisirdoux, and himself, they’d sunk nearly two years into the research alone. Gathering the materials presented another challenge; Morgana had used a notoriously hard-to-come-by combination of dragon scales over a blackthorn base to construct the Skathe-Hrün, atop a hinge system so convoluted, he found Claire laying face down on the floor at least twice a day.

Of late, though, their progress had stalled, but not for a reason Angor resented.

Claire and Jim had announced the pregnancy seven cycles ago, to a delighted reception; their Trollhunter’s heir, a living symbol of their struggles and sacrifices. Their new, perfect beginning.

To his amusement, Blinky and Aaarrrgghh had no idea how human children were born. Angor had been a farmer for most of his young life, and he laughed at their mute horror.

“You mean it’s… conscious? The whole time?” Blinky asked through the hand over his mouth. “And moving?” Aaarrrgghh shuddered, and offered Claire a sympathetic nuzzle upon next seeing her.

To her credit, the pregnancy hadn’t slowed her down much. Angor often caught himself testily reminding her not to strain herself. She brushed him off huffily at first, but as her waist thickened, the strain on her body and mood grew more noticeable; she was starting to remind him of a broody Quagawump.

At his side, Claire stretched her arms over her head, spine popping.

“I need a pee break.” she sighed. “God, I’m sore. Claire Jr.’s been doing somersaults all morning, it’s giving me the worst cramps.”

She waved to him over her shoulder, but only made it six steps before there was an audible splash.

“Oh, my God,” he heard her say clearly.

He looked up to see her standing, bow-legged, in a growing puddle.

“You... could have gone earlier, you know.” he offered cautiously.

“Angor, I think that was my water.” she said.

“Your wa-- Oh.” he said dumbly.

Claire sagged against the wall, cupping the bulge of her stomach. “Angor,” she repeated breathlessly, “Am I in labor right now?”

He was at her side in a flash. Grasping her elbow, he steadied her as she wobbled, guiding her back to her workbench. “Shit,” she breathed, “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, how is it so bad already?”

He murmured reassurances to her even as his nerves spiked, spurred by the scent of her fear. “It’s alright, _k_ _lithensül,_ we have plenty of time. We’ll send for Jim and Barbara right now.”

“This isn’t right,” she mumbled, “They said two more weeks,”

The workshop door creaked opened.

“Hey, guys, thought I’d bring you some--” Toby stood silhouetted in the doorway. He took them in, his mouth an O of surprise. “C- Claire?”

“Toby, where’s Jim?” Claire asked, voice wobbling as she stiffly rolled down her sodden tights.

“He and Barb went shopping,” Toby dropped the food bags on the floor as he rushed to her. “Claire, are you okay?”

“The baby’s coming.” she replied, holding the edge of the table in a white-knuckled grip. Toby paled.

“Oh, my God. Oh, my God!” remembering his phone, he fumbled it out of his pocket, frantically tapping buttons. “Oh, my God, it’s fucking go time!”

“Tobias,” Angor was crouched on the floor, helping Claire pull off her shoes. “If you could step outside, please.”

Toby looked at him blankly for a second, and glanced Claire’s bare legs under her skirt before flinging a hand over his eyes.

“Oh, shit! Yeah, sorry, shit!” He took several missed grabs for the door handle, finally seizing it, eyes still covered. The door closed on his heel. He yelped and tried again. When the door held, Angor heard him running down the hall.

Overhead, Claire groaned. “When’s Jim gonna get here?”

“Soon. I’m putting you on the table.” he told her, carelessly sweeping the tools to the floor. Snatching up a piece of canvas, he shook it out and draped it over the table. Not pretty, but better than the floor. He carefully lifted her under the knees and shoulders, placing her on the makeshift cot, her back pressed against the wall.

“Alright?”

“Mm,” she grunted through clenched teeth. “It hurts,”

“I know,” Angor reassured her.

“How do you know?” she snapped, “You’ve never done this before!”

“I’ve foaled more horses and kidded more goats than the stars that shine,” he replied calmly. “It’s unflattering, but the affair is much the same.” He neglected to add that he was more afraid now than he’d ever been for the goats.

Claire gave a strained chuckle. “Fair enough, I just wish Jim and Barbara would--”

“Claire, Claire!” They looked up.

Blinky and Aaarrrgghh eclipsed the light of the hallway, recoiling slightly at the scent of her distress. “Oh, Claire! We came as soon as we heard--”

“Jim and Barb are coming!” Toby shoved between the pair, waving his phone triumphantly. They’ll be here in like, fifteen minutes--”

“Are you alright? Have you had it yet? How long does it take?” asked Blinky eagerly. “Do you think I could take notes?”

A chunk of crystal flew past their heads and shattered on the far wall.

“Everyone, _out!_ ” Angor bellowed. They scrambled to obey, pushing and shoving out the door. Angor pointed a claw at Toby. “The next one to come through that door had better be James!”

Surging forward on the crest of another contraction, Claire sobbed. “I can’t I stop it, I don’t know what to do!”

“Then don’t do anything.” Angor’s voice softened. “Let her decide. Your kind have done this since time out of mind.”

Claire’s hand reached down to where his rested at the table’s edge. Angor turned it palm up, giving hers a brief squeeze. Fear and pain floated off her in overpowering waves. A gentle vibration began low in his chest, saturating the atmosphere, an involuntary attempt to soothe her. She may not have heard it, but her panting began to even.

_Breath_.

Time was moving differently now; it could have been minutes or hours. They hung suspended in a dark, close bubble, silent save Claire’s labored breathing and the soft popping of the hearth.

_Breath._

The torches guttered in their sconces, the very shadows throbbing in time to Claire’s heartbeat.

_Breath._

A head, covered in downy black hair. Angor’s breath caught in wonder. “Almost there, almost there,” he chanted mindlessly to Claire, to her child, to himself.

_Breath._

Claire roared, and with a last, heroic push, the bairn slid into Angor’s waiting hands.

He stared in awe at the tiny gray thing, so small she could fit in his cupped palms. _Were they all so small?_ It didn't seem possible she'd taken up the bump Claire had carried for months.

For a split second, his pulse spiked. She wasn’t breathing.

Then, as if by magic, the pinched creature gave a wet cough, then a wail, fat little limbs churning indignantly. His shoulders drooped in relief. Leaning down, he nipped through the cord connecting the recovering Claire to her daughter with a sharp _click_.

The heavy door burst open, throwing a square of white light over the scene. Angor thrust a protective shoulder between Claire and the open doorway, poised to fly at the intruder before he recognized Jim.

“Claire! Claire, we came as soon as we--” fear was stamped on his face, but when he saw the precious handful Angor carried, he stopped dead. Barbara brushed past to Claire’s side, saying something to her that neither of them heard.

Angor rose from his knees, holding Jim’s firstborn out to him in silent invitation. Jim hesitated for a second, speechless with awe. Eyes fixed on his daughter, he stripped off his jacket, swaddling her as Angor carefully deposited her in his arms.

“Claire,” he broke the spell, rushing breathlessly to her side. “Claire, she’s beautiful!”

“Of course she is,” she said softly, holding out her arms. She ran a finger across a reddening cheek as her baby wailed. A tear fell from one eye. “We knew she would be.”

“Do you have a name?” asked Barbara. She stood at Claire’s other side, gently cupping her granddaughter’s head, eyes bright.

“We picked Ava a while ago,” said Jim. Claire was too entranced to speak, pressing a cheek against Ava’s forehead, kissing her damp hair as the babe rooted at her breast.

Angor stood off to one side, trying to still the fine tremor in his hands. When was the last time his blood rushed like this? Since Gunmar? Since Morgana? He could have laughed; bringing forth a life frightened him more than the prospect of losing his own.

Claire cried out sharply, lurching forward as her face scrunched with pain. Angor flinched. Jim beat a startled retreat with Ava in his arms.

“Why does it still hurt?” Claire asked through clenched teeth. Barbara darted to perch on the floor in front of her.

“It’s alright, Claire,” reassured Barbara. “It’s just the placenta. Sometimes it’s a bit--” Barbara stopped short. “Claire. Jim.” she said slowly “There’s a head.”

They all looked up sharply.

“A head?!” Claire shouted. “The ultrasound said there was just--” Another contraction cut her off as she screamed through her teeth.

“Well, whatever the ultrasound said, there’s a baby in there, and they’re coming out.”

Jim looked from his wife to his mother, then back again. “Two?” he squeaked. He sank onto a stool, rocking Ava absently. “Oh, my God, two.”

Angor stood like a statue, feeling utterly powerless. What use was he? Claire was hurting and there was _nothing he could--_

“Angor,” he perked. “Please--” Claire pleaded, hand outstretched. “I wanted to have my mom here, but...”

Maybe he was making a stupid face, but he didn’t care. He moved to her side, taking her hand. Claire smiled at him before snarling through another contraction. He was lucky for his stone constitution; her grip could have crushed bone.

The second birth was faster than the first; he counted seven short minutes before her second slid into Barbara’s open hands.

“It’s a boy!” she announced. Jim and Claire sobbed in unison.

“A boy?” Claire laughed. Barbara handed her her son, who screamed fit to wake the dead.

Angor craned to see, heart pricking with a joy too fierce to name. At his age, a child was too great a wish; yet he had one, and two strong grandchildren to boast from her.

“There better not be any more of you in there,” Claire murmured to her son. “I can’t handle any more surprises.”

“I guess we didn’t think we’d need another name,” said Jim, a tear dripping off his chin. He leaned over his wife, letting the twins sense each other.

“Memo, my Memo…” murmured Claire. “Guillermo was my _abuelo’_ _s_ name, you know. I always liked it.”

Angor leaned over to examine his student’s newly-named son, and noted in surprise that his eyes were open, dark and bright as river pebbles.

“Strong ones, they are.” he decided. “Sorceress-born.”

“You think they’ll be magic?” asked Jim, mystified.

“I shouldn’t doubt it. Twins are an auspicious sign.” Angor replied. He trailed a finger down Guillermo’s chest. A tiny hand wrapped around it in an iron grip.

“We should to get you all to a hospital. You need to get checked over.” Barbara straightened authoritatively. “Angor, can you...?” Claire transferred Memo to Jim, who balanced the newborns in the crook of each arm. Angor lifted Claire easily as she adjusted her skirt.

Upon opening the door, a hundred curious faces surrounded them. Blinky and Aaarrrgghh jostled aside the strangers to meet them.  
  
“Claire! Thank goodness you’re alright! We heard such frightful noises!” One of the babes mewled, immediately arresting Blinky and Aaarrrgghh’s attention. Approaching reverently, the two trolls stared down, awestruck. “Upon my word, two?” Blinky breathed.

“Tiny,” said Aaarrrgghh decisively, his breath stirring the fine black hair.

“Claire, two?” Toby gripped Jim’s shoulder, tears streaming freely into his beard. “No wonder it took so long.”

“It was pretty quick, all things considered.” corrected Barbara. “Toby, would you mind driving?”

The group departed at the mouth of New Trollmarket, Barbara’s car humming as the new family piled into the back seat. Angor, Blinky and Aaarrrgghh waved as they drove into the setting sun.

“Great Gronka Morka,” Blinky laid a hand on each shoulder. “We’re grandfathers twice over.”

Angor rested a hand over Blinky’s. “They’ll be sheer havoc.” he said fondly.

Aaarrrgghh could scarcely contain his delight. “Sounds fun!”

**Author's Note:**

>  _Klithensül:_ An indulgent parental sentiment, translating roughly to "flesh of my soul". Do not look for this on the wiki, I made it up. If you caught that reference, congrats on also consuming a lot of Arthurian-adjacent media.
> 
> the names might be a bit corny, but i like them to have meaning, and Ava ~~lon~~ and Guillermo seemed too good to pass up.


End file.
